Attack of the Salt Shaker
by Twitch Hopeless-Savage
Summary: A delsuional Ron thinks that the salt shaker is out to get him. Mwahahahahaha!
1. Chapter one

Prologue:

It may look like an innocent little shaker on the outside. But on the inside is a deadly malice growing stronger with each passing day. (Insert name of the deity you worship) help whoever unleashes its wrath.

Chapter One:

Ronald Weasley is your average Joe. He has a job, a wife, and a small house. Life couldn't get any better than that. But one day a great evil entered his life and everything was forever changed. Here is his story:

The Attack of the Salt Shaker- 

Ron got off early **that day**, a special treat from his boss for keeping quiet about the "pancake problem."

As Ron accidentally discovered the poor man was heavily reliant on pancakes to give him that extra buzz. Sometimes he even dabbled in dealing, but only when Ihop needed a temporary waiter.

So in exchange for his silence Ron was given two choices. Either a coupon book for Ihop or an early day, but he still made the money for how many hours he missed by leaving.

Of course Ron picked the latter, he decided he could use it to get home early so that he could prepare a romantic dinner for his and Hermione's second anniversary. He had it all planned, a romantic dinner by candlelight, perhaps a stroll along the beach several blocks away afterwards.

She would be so surprised seeing as she thought Ron had forgotten. Not once that morning over breakfast did she wish him a happy anniversary. Which was all good in his book because now he had the chance to surprise her something fierce.

As he entered the room in which people disapparated from he should've remembered the fortune cookie form lunch. He should've taken heed when the little slip of paper told him that "_Salt kills_". But no, he had just laughed and tossed it in the trash unaware how true that statement would seem in the dark hours to come.

With a loud pop he apparated inside his kitchen. Outside the sky was beginning to darken with large storm clouds.

"Looks like the beach will have to be cancelled," he told himself, hanging his coat up in the broom cupboard sitting in the corner of the fairly medium sized room. You could probably squeeze in two partly grown erupments before it split at the seams.

As he shut the broom cupboard his eyes were drawn to the spice rack. He couldn't guess why but he supposed his body was taking over automatically and the cooking would be done in no time.

The salt shaker stood out from all the other little bottles. It seemed to be alive. But that was absurd. Salt shakers weren't alive.

"And watch out for salt shakers. Dangerous little buggers. The whole lot of them." His mother's warning rung in his ears.

Ron laughed at this silly superstition turning away from the spice rack. Again he forgot the fortune cookie's warning. Salt kills.

First, Ron decided he was going to make mashed potatoes seeing as he had seen Hermione do it loads of time. It would be a cinch.

Step one: Hermione said it was always important to become the potato. That way your own personal good energy would negate any bad energy that had been infused with it at the super market.

Ron picked up one of the lumpy brown roots and held it tight in his hand. "Become the potato," he muttered, imagining himself in a potato costume doing to the electric slide. He found the image so amusing that he gave up trying to become a potato. Besides he didn't want to be all fat and lumpy.

Step two: Peel the potato. But be gentle and only think good thoughts as you do it.

Ron pulled out his wand and magically began to peel the bowl of potatoes. As he did his thoughts wandered back to the salt shaker. Daring a look at it he was almost knocked flat. It was glaring at him decisively, a grin spreading across its glassy surface. At least it would've if it had a face. What Ron got was a feeling of menace.

He thought about salt shakers attacking him for the rest of the time that he peeled potatoes. Which was approximately three more seconds.

Step three: Boil water.

He brought a medium sized pot over to the sink and filled it up .6384 of the way full. Then he brought it over to the stovetop and placed it on a hot burner.

Then he sat down and watched. And watched. And watched. Nothing was happening.

"Will you hurry it up?" he asked it politely trying to avoid the gaze of the salt shaker sitting there all innocent like in the spice rack.

The water bubbled once in response. Impatient Ron pulled out his wand and pointed it at the pot.

"Incendio," he said. A blue flame shot from its tip and slammed into the bottom of the pot. The water instantly began a rolling boil.

Step four: Cube the potatoes and cook them in now boiling water.

This went surprisingly well given that Ron had never cooked before in his life. Actually he had but we don't talk about that. We'll just say that Hermione couldn't look at box cake the same way again.

Step five: Mash the potatoes.

Ron had fun with this one. He pulled out the masher and pretended he was smashing Malfoy's head. Nothing was left afterwards but a pot of mush. Ron's smile was one of peace, harmony, and morbid pride.

Step six: Add butter, milk, and salt.

Ron added the butter and milk without any thought but when it came time to add the salt Ron was rather reluctant.

He reached cautiously for the shaker. It just sat there placidly, biding its time.

Ron took it over to the pot and shook just a few sprinkles of salt into the mush. Instead the cap flew off and the entire shaker emptied into the mashed potatoes.

Ron glared at the shaker but it looked perfectly innocent. "You nasty little bugger," he muttered setting it on the counter to await its refill.

He went back to the mashed potatoes and stared at them. They were bound to be salty now. Something he had learned a long time ago popped into his head. Water dissolves salt. So if he added a bit of water the salt would disappear.

Eagerly he filled a cup with warm water and emptied it into the mashed potatoes. They looked a bit worn and watery afterwards but Ron was sure they were still edible.

Then his attention turned back to the salt shaker but it ignored his gaze.

"You are so going down," he threatened it. "I'm going to call my mate Harry down here. He'll know what to do with you. On second thought I'll invite Ginny as well. You don't want to be on the receiving end of one of her jinxes."

The next door neighbour looked up from her gardening and watched as Ron continued to converse with the salt shaker. She just shrugged her soldiers, saying something about kids these days. Too many blue M&Ms, that was the cause of all this madness.

Ron contacted both Harry and Ginny begging them to help set up the dinner. He told them he was helpless when it came to cooking, which was true, but in actuality he didn't want to be alone with a psycho salt shaker.

A/n: Mwahahahaha! Don't worry there shall be a new chapter soon!


	2. Chapter Two

Chapter Two:

"Happy anniversary."

"Ron, it's absolutely divine!" Hermione squealed walking into her candlelit dining room. A bottle of champagne sat decoratively on the table. "You did all this just for me?" She went to kiss him passionately on the lips.

"Actually Harry and Ginny helped me a little bit," Ron answered, getting ready for her kiss.

"Oh." Instead of kissing Ron she reached out her hand and adjusted a spiky leaf on the wreath hanging behind him.

"You bloody git," shouted a feminine voice but it was immediately cut off.

"Shh... Hermione is not supposed to know were here," whispered a voice Hermione recognised as Harry's.

"What was that?" she asked Ron, but he just studied a little smudge on the ceiling wondering when it had appeared.

"What was what?" he finally asked, looking right passed her head. Pink rose up his face.

"That noise in the kitchen." She walked across the dining room and reached for the kitchen door.

"While you're in the **kitchen** could you please get me a glass of water?" Ron quickly said, his voice a bit too loud.

There was a sound a scrambling and muffled curses. Hermione pushed open the door and studied the room. Several pots were sitting on the stovetop emitting delicious smells. Something was baking in the oven.

"Ouch Harry that's my foot," muttered a girl's voice.

"Sorry."

Hermione's gaze swiveled to the small broom cupboard in the corner. The door stood ajar and she could just make out a pair of feet sticking out.

She stalked towards it and the door quietly shut.

"What do we do? She's heading in this direction," Harry asked in a panicked voice. Hermione giggled.

"I don't kn- AHHHH!" A red blur flew from the cupboard screaming. Harry jumped out after it trying not to laugh. He had an old broomstick in his hand.

"**I'm being attacked!**" Ginny shouted, using Hermione as a shield. "**Get it away!**" She fearfully peered over Hermione's shoulder, parted a bit of bushy hair and glared at the cupboard.

"What the hell is going on?" Ron barreled into the kitchen, clutching his wand.

Laughing, Harry held up the broom and pointed at Ginny with it. "This fell on her and she freaked out. You should've seen it."

"It wasn't that broom. Something big and hairy attacked me. It was drooling and had really sharp teeth." Ginny slowly sidled out from behind Hermione. Her eyes never left the broom.

"There was nothing else in there besides us and the broom," Harry stated, tears of laughter began to roll down his face.

Ginny sniffed angrily and marched over to the broom in Harry's hand. "I know you had something to with it," she muttered to its bristles. "I don't have any proof but if I find out you were hiding that beast all along it will straight to the bonfire." Her voice was low and dangerous.

Ron looked like he was going to laugh as well but Ginny gave him such a nasty look that it was stuck in his throat. "Well I hope you're happy," she seethed. "Because you can't cook I will be traumatized for approximately five days, thirteen hours, and forty-seven minutes."

Everyone looked at her questioningly, including a small little spider that was currently scuttling across the ceiling.

"That's how long until my next therapy session." Her voice had a tone of finality so no one pushed the subject.

Seeing as this bit of story ended Hermione could get back to being angry at Ron.

"You asked your best mate and your sister to make a romantic dinner for your wife?" she chirped, as Harry and Ginny silently checked the food.

Ron's face burned pink. "They didn't make all of it. I cooked something."

"What was that? Did little Ronnikins boil water all by himself." Hermione knew that she was overreacting just a bit. But she had every right to. It was _her_ anniversary and Ron wasn't supposed to screw it up like this. Murderous brooms, psycho redheads, it was like a bad soap opera.

For all the witches, wizards, and hags (coughvictoriacough) out there a soap opera is a melodramatic form of entertainment. Usually watched by women in their mid-thirties it is a way to fulfill every single one of their sordid, morbid addictions while also getting to watch beautiful men and women in stunning clothing make it all look like trivial child's play.

Ron's face was now redder than his hair. "Well... I... ummm... made mashed potatoes."

Well Hermione had to give him kudos. Going from screwing up toasting bread to making mashed potatoes was a rare accomplishment indeed. She had to remember to give him a gold star.

"Let's have a taster then," Hermione said, trying to rid the anger and annoyance in her voice. Harry bustled over with a red pot.

Ron stuck in his finger and pulled out a gob of potatoes. He held it out for Hermione. She licked it off while Harry and Ginny giggled uncontrollably.

Hermione tried not to spit it out by it was too damn salty. It splattered against the wall pegging the poor little spider previously mentioned.

"**Water!**" she howled, spitting and coughing. Ginny turned on the faucet on stuck a cup under the running water.

Hermione ripped in from her hand. The water was gone in a swift second.

"What did you do? Put all the salt I Europe in it?" she said, still trying to rid her mouth of the awful salt taste. Harry offered her a stick of mint gum. "Thanks."

"It wasn't my fault," Ron said defensively. "The salt shaker is pure evil. It pushed off its lid and it just came pouring out. Whoosh. I couldn't stop it. So than I added some water. You know because it dissolves salt. I guess it didn't work."

He shuddered as he looked at the salt shaker sitting there innocently on the counter smirking.

"The salt's fault?" Hermione's thin brown eyebrow rose.

"Not the salt's fault. The salt _shaker's_." Ron kicked his foot sullenly. "Harry you believe me, right?"

"Salt shakers _are_ slightly... unmanageable," Harry said in a reluctantly agreeing voice.

"There," Ron said happily. "You see it wasn't my fault."

Ginny giggled and Hermione grinned. "You're so cute, Ron." She tickled his chin. "Why don't we go out to eat? I made reservations at a fabulous french restaurant. I had no clue you were going to do this. In fact I thought you were going to forget all together. Harry and Ginny can eat the food they made."

"Okay." Ron grabbed his coat and glared at the salt shaker.

After Ron and Hermione left Harry and Ginny sat down to enjoy a dinner of mac and cheese from the box, package brownies, and frozen corn.

"Imagine an evil salt shaker. What a hoot," Ginny laughed.

She reached for the salt shaker and shook a bit of salt onto her corn. Unexpectedly the cap fell off and salt snowed down onto her corn.

Harry and Ginny shared scared looks. They picked up the salt shaker and locked it away with the evil broom.

The End... for now...

A/n: I have to agree with Ron. Salt shakers are uncontrollable. Earlier this week a perfectly good burger was ruined because of the accursed salt shaker. There is a sequel in the works. "The Revenge of the Salt Shaker". And I promise that it will be even funnier than this one.


End file.
